Silent Night (3)
Throughout countless playthroughs, Dalen didn’t always risk everything to clear the game.
Sometimes, he indulged in what one might call a ‘casual play.’
On a few occasions, he even joined the ranks of the harbingers of destruction, just to vent his accumulated frustrations.
“The Apostles of Regression were the first, weren’t they?”
In the early stages of the game, when he was still struggling to adapt.
Fed up with the cultists who would wreak havoc on more than half of the Bronze District whenever they stirred up trouble, he once decided to become a cultist himself.
Turning people into monsters and offering sacrifices to evil gods was repulsive, but…
What did it matter?
It was just a game, after all.
“Back then, I was just playing for fun. I never imagined this world would become reality.”
And there was one more thing Dalen hadn’t anticipated at the time.
The Grand Apostle was, quite literally, insane.
Corrupted by the madness of an evil god, the Grand Apostle sacrificed even the Silver Mask Apostles at the end of the great plan, burning the entire Bronze District to the ground.
Dalen’s Silver Mask Apostle character, offered as a sacrifice on an altar, limbs severed.
Even years later, Dalen couldn’t forget the face of the Grand Apostle, grinning with madness, holding a still-beating heart.
Squelch—
The Grand Apostle pulled the axe from his face with a tentacle.
He examined the axe briefly, then tossed it aside near a pile of corpses, as if losing interest.
“It’s not an enchanted item. You must have used some technique to throw it with such force.”
The split face of the Grand Apostle, covered in a web-like sticky substance, quickly fused back together.
There was no oozing liquid anywhere. It was a power entirely different from the cultists’ techniques, a demonic force.
Dalen slowly approached the Grand Apostle, speaking as he walked.
“A low-tier demon, Arachne, I presume. You’ve used a trick to merge with the summoner to reduce the burden of the sacrifice.”
“Oh, I didn’t realize you were knowledgeable in demonology.”
The Grand Apostle eyed Dalen with eyes flashing with sinister magic.
His tongue, stained purple by demonic blood, licked his equally purple lips.
“Then again, it’s not surprising. There aren’t many heroes as unprecedented as you. A mercenary with a silver shield, possessing the strength of a giant, the instincts of a beast, and the wisdom to master imperial martial arts.”
What nonsense is he spouting?
Dalen continued walking in silence.
The cavern was vast, and with the axe thrown, his only remaining ranged attack was a fire arrow.
But a Grand Apostle who had embraced a demon wouldn’t fall to a mere spell.
The Grand Apostle was also a mage skilled in long-range attacks, so Dalen had to somehow turn this fight into a melee.
If the Grand Apostle kept talking to himself, all the better for Dalen.
“To think you managed to gain the support of the Elgaia Magic Tower, known for their reluctance to move, and the aid of the Crow Witch, who has eyes and ears in every alley and sewer, not to mention the ragmen who follow you blindly.”
The Grand Apostle didn’t stop talking. Dalen kept advancing.
His pace quickened.
Splash. Splash.
Blood from the hill of sacrificed bodies splashed under his feet.
Rats feasting on flesh and blood scurried away at his approach.
The Grand Apostle, not entirely oblivious, began forming hand signs with the tentacles sprouting from his back.
He grinned wickedly.
“But it seems your heroic journey ends here. As the order of regression takes root—”
Boom!
The earth exploded.
In the midst of the explosion, Dalen’s form blurred and vanished.
In a split second, Dalen’s body flew with the speed of an arrow shot from a crossbow.
The Grand Apostle extended his tentacles and hands, chanting a spell.
“Enaxa—Ob!”
Thud—
An invisible force struck Dalen from the side. Even with a shield, he was pushed back.
The demonic spell cast by the Grand Apostle was indeed formidable.
Crash!
He crashed into one of the piles of corpses near the altar. Dalen didn’t hesitate.
Amidst the torn flesh, he planted his foot firmly on the ground once more.
And then—
Boom!
The pile of corpses exploded, propelling Dalen forward again.
“Amazing! Was the leap itself a technique?”
The Grand Apostle exclaimed, forming hand signs. Before the shockwave could be unleashed, Dalen landed and sprinted.
Whoosh!
The air being pushed aside was a prelude to the shockwave. Reading the flow that brushed against his skin, he angled his shield.
Thunk—
There was no need to take it head-on.
After deflecting the spell with his shield, he subtly shifted direction, dissipating the impact. He planted his feet firmly on the ground.
Whoom—
The shockwave, crafted by demonic magic, skimmed past his skin.
Boom!
The pile of corpses behind Dalen exploded with a bang.
”…Oh.”
Dalen ran again.
He slid across the ground, dodging fireballs. He leaped over cascading lava and deflected the acidic liquid spewed by tentacles with his shield.
He sensed the prelude to each spell with his keen instincts, reading the murderous intent embedded in each incantation.
His superhuman intelligence and reflexes calculated every move, allowing him to evade and advance simultaneously.
The Grand Apostle couldn’t finish his tenth spell.
“Enaxa—”
Because Dalen’s sword was already upon him.
Slash—
A few tentacles were severed. Dalen took a deep breath.
In a brief moment, his sword traced intricate curves and lines.
Slash, slash, slash—
Leather and flesh in its path were torn apart.
“Argh!”
The Grand Apostle screamed in agony.
But the demon fused with him chose a different path instead of screaming.
As about ten tentacles were severed in an instant, the tentacles, part of the demon, began to harden themselves with a spell.
Bang! Boom!
The tentacles met Dalen’s sword again.
This time, they were as hard as steel.
Slash—
Dalen’s sword gleamed. A tentacle aiming for his back was sliced in half.
Thud!
Sharp tentacles shot towards him, bouncing off his shield and colliding with each other.
The tentacles, like living snakes, tried to ensnare and coil around Dalen’s sword.
Dalen didn’t care. He had the upper hand in strength.
Even if they were part of a low-tier demon, these tentacles were merely fragments.
They weren’t fully summoned but manifested through the summoner’s body.
There was no need to fear something that couldn’t even exert a tenth of its true power.
“The problem isn’t that.”
Dalen glanced at the gate to hell. The problem was the creature’s regenerative ability.
The steel-like tentacles regrew quickly even after being severed. The main body wasn’t a weak point either.
The demon’s regenerative power applied to the Grand Apostle’s body as well, with his arm, torn by Dalen’s sword, already regrown.
Sizzle—
Dalen’s body was also constantly healing, thanks to the regenerative factor of dragon blood. But he was at a disadvantage.
While the dragon blood consumed his stamina, the demon’s power continuously flowed from the open gate to hell.
Crash!
A tentacle, layered several times, blocked his descending sword. The sword snapped in half, and the remaining part was coiled by the tentacles like snakes.
Whoosh—
A tentacle, stretched long, lunged at Dalen’s back.
It was too late to shake off the coiled tentacles and swing the half-broken sword.
It didn’t matter. Dalen let go of the sword.
Smash!
The tentacle shattered under his fist. It was a display of strength that could crush steel.
Dalen even discarded his shield, beginning to fend off the wave of tentacles with bare hands and feet.
Slash! Bang! Boom!
The tentacles burst at an even faster pace. And they regenerated just as quickly.
Dalen’s limbs, too, constantly emitted steam, healing the damaged skin and muscle tissue from the excessive impact.
The martial arts of Dehama, reaching the level of a master, moved his body like a killing machine.
Could the creator of the knight’s martial arts, designed to massacre infantry, have predicted it would be used to tear apart demonic fragments?
Yet, even as he crushed and shattered countless tentacles, Dalen knew instinctively.
If this continued, he would tire and collapse before that monster did.
“The problem wasn’t the lack of strength in the Great Warrior’s corpse. It was the regenerative ability.”
The second corpse sacrificed by the Grand Apostle, the ‘Captured Great Warrior.’
That was a character Dalen had created when he had mastered the game.
A character with initial stats focused on strength, high proficiency in two-handed swordsmanship, and armor made of black iron plate.
Dalen had already wiped out the Apostles of Regression dozens of times with this classic warrior build.
Yet, he faced an unexpected obstacle for one reason alone.
“In that episode, the Grand Inquisitor summoned a demon too.”
The demons’ terrifying regenerative abilities were something even the might of a great warrior couldn’t overcome.
No matter how meticulously Dalen had built his character, back then, his great warrior had started from a basic template.
Facing a demon with a body that had clear limitations wasn’t something that could be overcome with skill or control alone.
“I spent four hours in that boss fight only to die.”
Dalen recalled the memory with a wry smile.
What a brutal game.
Fortunately, he hadn’t had to face the Grand Inquisitor who summoned demons since then.
In a way, now was the perfect chance to redeem that past defeat.
Thinking about it brought a smile to his face. Ever since he had donned this body brimming with power, an oddly heightened sense of competitiveness had been boiling within him.
Even as he let out a small, incredulous laugh, Dalen’s muscles twitched, ready to unleash their strength.
“I should be fine.”
His stats were clearly superior to back then.
A strength of 26 was a number that a basic character would only achieve well into the mid-game.
As long as he didn’t have to worry about the backlash on his body, Dalen’s chances of victory seemed promising.
“All I need is one strike.”
The answer was always the same.
By the endgame, hunting demons became routine.
And the solution to their endless regeneration was always a single, overwhelming blow.
There was no other way.
He had to rely on his near-human-limit stamina and the dragon blood’s regenerative factor, which was nearing 40% proficiency.
He took a deep breath. The air filled his lungs, spreading vitality throughout his body.
His heart pumped the heated blood through his veins.
His muscles, steaming with exertion, prepared to give their all for the first time since he set foot on this land.
Ssshhh―!
Sensing something amiss, the Grand Inquisitor gathered its tendrils to form a barrier.
Some shot forward, aiming to exploit any opening and stop him.
Dalen didn’t care.
He focused all his attention on his clenched fist.
Just as the sharp tips of the tendrils were about to graze his scarred skin—
Whoosh―
Dalen thrust his fist forward.
And moments later—
Boom―!
A massive thunderous sound shook the cavern.